A group of expeditioners formed a team to attempt a summit of the formidable Everest. They anticipated the journey would be arduous so they spent years training and stock piling the best gear to aid them with their ascent. During this time of preparation they, through excited conversations with friends and acquaintances, added many to their numbers. By the time of departure their group numbered over fifty.

As they set out the air was thick with excitement. Taking the traditional southern route, the climb began in the small town of Namche Bazaar, Napal. Yaks and dzopkyos were loaded heavily with supplies. Sherpas and porters were hired. The travelers would spend the next 8 days making their way to the Everest Base Camp at a 17,700 feet. By all accounts the trek, even in its early phase, was far more difficult than they were ready for. Even many of the most physically fit members had a difficult time adjusting to the thin air.

On that 8th day they finally made it to the Khumbu Glacier which is followed for the final part of the trail to the Base Camp. The icy path was treacherous for the crew, each footstep was placed firmly to ensure safe passage. After this obstacle they reached the location where they would rest and acclimate for two weeks.

Tents were pitched, a makeshift kitchen was setup, and the sojourners settled in. When the winds weren’t whipping too hard they would gather into small groups discussing the journey so far and planning for the next section of the journey. There were a few core members of the team that were widely recognized as the leaders. They talked at length with each other about methods for keeping the others following the straight and narrow. Each afternoon the leaders would call the group together as a whole to go over safety strategies and outline their plans.

Over the first week at base camp other climbers also arrived, setting up their makeshift settlements nearby. A few of the leaders would go to chat with the newcomers, always reporting back to their own group that the others were inexperienced, ill-prepared, and had little business being on such a dangerous mountain. Occasionally they would try to convince some of the other groups to come and follow them up the mountain. Their sales pitches claimed that the only way they would be guaranteed a safe summit was if they learned from them and obeyed their instructions. Some actually did agree to abandon their own teams to study at the feet of the leaders and to follow them to the mountain top.

Each time a new convert was brought into the group the training sessions would begin again. Though the delays disappointed the original crew, the leaders explained that it was for everybody’s safety that the recruits received a full and robust training.

The two-week acclimation period passed, then another week, then another. With each passing day the instructional lessons became more detailed, more rigid, and more strict. What was a 1 hour informal gathering had now turned into a 2 1/2 hour class taught daily. Each now had a title and corresponding theme. One was called “7 Practices of a Highly Effective Climber”, another “Mountaineers in the Hands of an Angry Mountain”.

Eventually some of the members of the crew became disheartened at the postponements and the increasing fanaticism of the leaders. The mountain grew colder, windier, and more frightening with each passing day. A group of 5 asked a couple of the sherpas to escort them back off the mountain so they could return home. As they began to hike away from the camp and down the glacier they could hear mocking from the distance…something about being quitters, being weak, being lost. From that point on the classes would also contain a section on the failures of back-sliding down the mountain, of sliding down the slippery slope.

There was one young woman in the group, named Amy, who had dreamed of this journey since she was a small child. The walls of her room as a teenager were filled with posters of Everest. As an adult her coffee table had been littered with mountaineering magazines for years. She had taken smaller journeys across many of North America’s most famous peaks. When she heard of this expedition Amy had convinced her fiance, Brian, to take this trip with her. Brian had not dreamed of this trip since childhood, but Amy’s enthusiasm proved quite contagious.

Now she was forced to sit impatiently on the side of the mountain, so close…and so far away. To Amy, the classes being taught each day were little more than pep talks and repetition of lessons she had learned years earlier. She began skipping the lectures, instead venturing to nearby camps to express her vexation. She dared not speak her doubts and frustrations among her own team lest they shame her for being on the verge of the slippery slope.

Eventually the quicksand of this base camp became overwhelming for Amy. She had been thinking about turning back, going back home to return later. There was one particular group she had been venting to for the past couple days. When she told them that she was thinking about leaving they offered to let her join their expedition. Upon hearing the invitation Amy glowed.

She quickly rushed back to Brian and told him they finally had a way to continue on their journey. Brian was hesitant. He wanted to join Amy and this new team, but the training was echoing through his thoughts. The other groups are “unsafe”, “unreliable”…how could he put himself and Amy at such risk? And of course he knew the shaming would be imminent. He certainly didn’t want to be a back-slider.

There was one thing, though, that he felt more strongly than any of those fears. He wanted Amy to be happy. Brian told Amy he would love to join her and the new climbing team she had found. As they packed their gear some concerned companions came by to convince them that they should not leave. They expressed that they were worried for their safety. Brian and Amy thanked them for their concern but also conveyed that they were going to continue the climb and didn’t believe they could do that with the original expedition.

As they finally began their long-awaited trek out of the base camp they could hear murmurs behind them. The words they had expected finally came as somebody mentioned the “slippery slope” Amy and Brian were on. They smiled at each other because now they knew that not all slippery slopes are a descent…some are a long, hard climb towards your dream.

I have a confession to make…I love the Food Network and spend far too much of my time watching, what many would consider, pointless cooking competition shows. From Iron Chef to Chopped to Cupcake Wars (do I lose a manly-man point for that last one?) I find myself glued to the flashing screen in front of me.

In a never-ending attempt to prove to myself that I am not just “wasting time”, I have been contemplating the spiritual lessons I have gleaned from these shows. So without further ado:

1. Tension and balance are essential.

Many a chef has been “chopped” when a judge utters the criticism that their dish was “one note”. If there is a secret to making amazing grub, it might just be providing contrasting yet complementary flavors and textures.

Corn Ice Cream w/Habanero Tequila Caviar

If you are going to make a sweet dish, it is a good idea to add a sour or spicy flavor to create an interesting tension. Likewise, if you are going to make a soup you had better include a piece of crunchy bread to contrast the textures. A meal without contrast is a recipe for a boring dining experience.

This is also true of our spiritual journeys. If we think faith is all about believing what we were taught to believe and never about doubting then we can only go so far. It becomes predictable and repetitive. However if we truly embrace belief yet are authentic in acknowledging our doubt it usually provides a deeper more robust spiritual experience. This can also be true with grace vs. justice, metaphysical vs. physical, and truth vs. mystery. Finding the tension between the two is where the magic happens.

2. Deconstruction of the classics can lead us into a deeper understanding.

Deconstructed Bagel and Lox

Take for example the dish to the left. It is a deconstructed version of the classic bagels and lox. The chef has abstracted each of the components: bagel (in crumb form), cured salmon, cream cheese, onion, cucumber, and capers. In this the diner can experience this meal, with a long history, in a new and fresh way. In so doing they can more easily understand what each component adds to the dish. The bagels add the starch and crunch. The cheese adds the creaminess. The fish adds the smokey savoriness. The capers add the tart sourness. I think you get the point… In addition the eater can play around by tasting a couple of the components in tandem to see how those flavors play off of one another. The whole experience leaves the diner with a far greater understanding of the meal they have eaten.

Similarly deconstructing our doctrines and theologies can lead us into a more robust comprehension. It is easy to let our spiritual ancestors fight through all the questions and arguments for us, consuming whatever is placed before us. It is a worthwhile effort to dig into them to find out who they were, why they made the decisions they made, what influenced them, and what impacts it has had. When we truly understand the components that our dogmas emerged from, perhaps we can imagine them in a new way that will bring life to ourselves and those around us.

3. Exposure to diversity can produce creativity

Sea Urchin Carbonara Noodle Bento Box

Culinary lines have long been fought over. The French will claim their cuisine is the best in the world, the Italians theirs, the Japanese theirs, and so on. Purists from any tradition will often scoff at the rest of the inferior lot. If you, like me, have watched the original Iron Chef program, Iron Chef America‘s Japanese predecessor from the 90s, you will have noticed that each of the chefs came from a specific cuisine (French, Chinese, Japanese, Italian). Many times challengers would enter Kitchen Stadium from opposing classical schools. Most of the time the chefs would stick to their specialized flavor profiles, but occasionally a spark of creativity would come over them as they “stole” an ingredient or flavor from the rival tradition to elevate their dish. Over the show’s 7 year run this practice increased as it became known as a winning formula. The Iron Chef who showed this type of creativity more than any of the others was Masaharu Morimoto, who eventually crossed the Pacific to join Iron Chef America. In the American version of the show almost every Iron Chef and challenger follow this tradition where they “bring together the pungent flavors of east and west”.

I have found spiritual parallel here as well. There are a great many spiritual traditions in the world. For the longest time I saw them as rivals, as an inferior lot. As I have opened myself to hearing what is important and meaningful to them, I have found inspiration for my own faith tradition. Many times I have felt myself fall into a rut…thinking the same thoughts, doing the same things, falling into the same patterns. Having a real appreciation for spiritual diversity (including the agnostics and atheists I know) provides me with the spark of creativity it takes to get out of those ruts…and I’m truly thankful for that.

Occasionally a song resonates with your soul. Sometimes that resonation has little to do with the artist’s original intent. Perhaps that is one of the signs of truly meaningful expressions. There’s something wonderful about a song that transcends its topic. I’ve had that experience over the past week. Goyte’s “Somebody That I Used To Know” has been that song for me. Rather than a reflection on a former romantic relationship the song has placed melody and lyrics on my former relationship with G-d…the one I knew in my youth…the one I knew from my Evangelical born-again phase.

Reflect with me, if you will, on the lyrics for a moment:

Now and then I think of when we were togetherLike when you said you felt so happy you could dieTold myself that you were right for meBut felt so lonely in your companyBut that was love and it’s an ache I still remember

You can be addicted to a certain kind of sadnessLike resignation to the end, always the endSo when we found that we could not make senseWell you said that we would still be friendsBut I’ll admit that I was glad that it was over

But you didn’t have to cut me offMake out like it never happened and that we were nothingAnd I don’t even need your loveBut you treat me like a stranger and that feels so roughNo you didn’t have to stoop so lowHave your friends collect your records and then change your numberI guess that I don’t need that thoughNow you’re just somebody that I used to know

Now you’re just somebody that I used to knowNow you’re just somebody that I used to know

Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me overBut had me believing it was always something that I’d doneBut I don’t wanna live that wayReading into every word you sayYou said that you could let it goAnd I wouldn’t catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know

But you didn’t have to cut me offMake out like it never happened and that we were nothingAnd I don’t even need your loveBut you treat me like a stranger and that feels so roughAnd you didn’t have to stoop so lowHave your friends collect your records and then change your numberI guess that I don’t need that thoughNow you’re just somebody that I used to know

Somebody, I used to knowNow you’re just somebody that I used to knowSomebody, I used to knowNow you’re just somebody that I used to know

I used to know…That I used to knowI used to know somebody

I should probably specify at this point that I haven’t become an atheist or agnostic. I still believe in G-d but what that looks like is quite different from what it has been in the past. I have broken-up with the anthropomorphic projection of my fears, hopes, insecurities, prejudices, self-doubt, anger, and desires. Moreover, I have ended my relationship with those projections of my culture and the cultures that serve as the foundation of my culture. There are, I still believe, parts of that affair that were shadows of the divine. All of those elements were, though, tangled hopelessly into an idea I named “G-d”.

I feel particularly connected to the imagery in the video. The relationship I shared with this G-d was created by filling in a paint-by-numbers pattern. Piece by piece, doctrine by doctrine, sermon by sermon…the tapestry of our journey together took on shape and color. It was not until later that the sharp corners and lack of shading began to bother me. By the end…color drained away all together and the borders vanished. All that remained was raw human flesh ready to move tentatively toward a new era, a new love.

Breaking up doesn’t mean though that I am free and clear of that previous “personal relationship”. I will carry the baggage of that failed relationship…it has undeniably become a part of who I am. It is intertwined with my very being for better and for worse. That was love and it’s an ache I still remember.

Your friends, divine former lover, still come around to remind me that it’s over. They snatch back the mementos of our relationship, as if they actually could, to serve as a reminder that you never needed me to begin with. Though we shared a deep and meaningful history, when that relationship was over your messengers told me I could no longer call myself “Christian”. I became a stranger and that feels so rough. You found others who will love you more truly than I ever could. I did love you, but we found that we could not make sense. I’ll admit that I was glad that it was over.

I’m deeply sorry I had to leave. I needed to. You see, I didn’t feel like I could be myself. The relationship demanded that I become someone I couldn’t truly be…but I’ll be damned if I didn’t try to become that person. Every time I failed to accomplish the impossible you claimed to forgive me by acting large and when you did I felt so small. I realize now that I was always set-up for failure. And I don’t wanna live that wayReading into every word you say.

In the end it is better off this way…for both of us. I will always remember the good times we had and the love that we shared. The past is the past though. Now you’re just somebody that I used to know.

Earlier this week popular reformed preacher John Piper addressed a crowd of conventioneers at the annual Desiring G-d 2012 event. His message was entitled “The Frank and Manly Mr. Ryle – The Value of Masculine Christianity“. Read it here. It is a fairly long address, so allow me to highlight a couple of pieces (with some intermittent responses.

“God has revealed himself to us in the Bible pervasively as King, not Queen, and as Father, not Mother. The second person of the Trinity is revealed as the eternal Son.” – Piper

Now the point here isn’t to have a biblical tit for tat with Piper. It’s simply to point out that when we use terrestrial language to speak of the divine we are always speaking in symbolism. When we attempt to explain our hopes regarding the nature of G-d we use analogies. We use something that is familiar to us personally to express something magnificently mysterious. Asserting that G-d is literally male, a “father”, or a “king” is no more appropriate than using Jesus’ analogy of a mother hen gathering her chicks to assert that G-d is a chicken.

Piper continued: “God appoints all the priests in Israel to be men. The Son of God comes into the world as a man, not a woman. He chooses twelve men to be his apostles. The apostles tell the churches that all the overseers—the pastor/elders who teach and have authority (1 Timothy 2:12)—should be men; and that in the home, the head who bears special responsibility to lead, protect, and provide should be the husband (Ephesians 5:22–33)…From all of this, I conclude that God has given Christianity a masculine feel.”

Many of the prophets consistently uses the feminine Hebrew pronouns (zo’th & shilyah) to refer the nation of Israel. In the New Testament Jesus and the apostles refer to the church in the feminine metaphor as bride. There are a lot of powerful women in the Bible. Most scholars will let you in on the fact that Jesus had female disciples. Paul, yes that Paul, was discipled in part by a woman named Priscilla. She and her husband were both pastors of a church in Ephesus. The women Euodia and Syntyche worked with Paul to teach the gospel. We could go on and on, but the assertion that only men lead or are called to lead in the Bible is obviously false.

If we move past antiquated chauvinism we will surely enjoy a much more robust and meaningful Christianity. Chauvinism restricts the analogies we can use to express the divine into a subset of what it could be. If we refuse to see G-d in the feminine then we have lost half of our means to express our hope. Our symbolic cup does not “runneth over”…it remains half empty. A Christianity that embraces the feminine metaphors doubles the tools we have to express the divine.

Now what is interesting in this particular speech is that Piper eventually admits that women can do pretty much anything that a man can do (something I doubt to ever hear Piper’s macho-church companion, Mark Driscoll, admit).

“The reason we call such courage “manly” is not that a woman can’t show it, but that we feel a sense of fitness and joy when a man steps up to risk his life, or his career, with courage; but we (should) feel awkward if a woman is thrust into that role on behalf of men…

The point is not that women are unable to lift the weight or bear the pain of the reality of hell. The point is not that they are unable to press it into those who don’t want to hear. The point is that one of the marks of mature manhood is the inclination to spare her that load and its costs….

Again the point is not that a woman is not able to speak this way. The point is that godly men know intuitively, by the masculine nature implanted by God, that turning the hearts of men and women to God with that kind of authoritative speaking is the responsibility of men.” – Piper

This is what is truly unfortunate about this theology. There is no doubt in my mind that Piper believes that women will be happier living in submission to masculine authority. What he doesn’t realize, blinded by doctrine, is that most women are not happy in that place. His view does not match reality. He doesn’t realize that women too sense a fitness and joy when they “step up to the risks of life, or career, with courage”. He does not realize that they passionately desire to lead others and help them to make the world a better place. They too have a nature to turn the hearts of others to the divine.

In teaching that leadership, careers, and individual divine calling are strictly for manly men, he robs women of their freedom to be fulfilled. In this view, the only life they have been “blessed” with is one of perpetual cheerleading and baby-making. He doesn’t even realize what he is doing…but this is the 21st Century, ignorance is not acceptable. We have millions of examples of successful and fulfilled female leaders. You don’t need to look far to find them. We can easily observe all the diversity in life. Men don’t always fit the masculine cliches, nor do women fit the female cliches…no matter how much Piper and Driscoll try to tell us everybody should fit into 2 predefined boxes.

A couple of weeks ago author and blogger, Rachel Held Evans, was in Phoenix speaking at a couple of events. She reminded us of a biblical story that receives little attention. The story of Jephthah and his daughter can be found in Judges 11. To sum up the story in short: Jephthah is called upon by the elders of Gilead to fight their enemies. If he is successful they agree to make him their permanent chieftain. During the battle Jephthah cuts a deal with G-d: If he is given the victory he promises to sacrifice “whatever comes out of the doors of my house to meet me when I return”. He wins the battle, returns home, and his daughter comes out to greet him. He is distraught, but Jephthah knows what G-d “requires” of him. His daughter pleads with him to allow here to spend two months mourning in the countryside before her future and her life are sacrificed to meet the expectations of G-d. He grants this postponement but at the end of two months “did to her according to the vow which he had made”.

The danger of Piper’s theology is that it asserts that G-d wants us to sacrifice the individual initiative, hopes, and dreams of women. Many women are currently wandering in the wilderness mourning for the lives they wish they had, if it had not been for this “promise” we made to doctrine. The good news is that they are not yet sacrificed…though “Masculine Christianity” seems anxious to light the pyre. We can come to our senses and realize that this is a sacrifice that G-d neither requires nor wants.

His matted mane rested heavily on the slivered wooden floor. A large paw stretched forward and began to knead the cold iron bars. Leo, not a very original name for a lion, gazed longingly across the parking lot from his circus trailer. It had been many years that he had traveled through the countryside…but tonight he longed for something different, something more. Weighted pants pushed dust from the floor into the night air. He knew not what laid beyond the darkness, but wondered. There must be something…right?

As a cub Leo was bought and sold to a travelling circus. City after city, show after show he would be presented to the crowds as they oohed and awed at his cuteness. A story was told during each exhibition of how young Leo was saved out of a cruel life of caged captivity from the small breeder. He would now enjoy the luxurious life that few lions would ever get the privilege of experiencing. There would always be new places, new people, new experiences for Leo. All his needs would be met from food to water to exercise and companionship. The lion tamer traveling with the circus was world-renowned and had years of experience training young lions like Leo. Surely this would be a wonderfully exciting life for this little cub.

Within a few months of his life as a circus lion Leo started his training. He would not be small and cute forever, he had to learn the tricks and routines that would keep audiences packing the big tent. Three other lions filled out the small pride that became Leo’s family, two lionesses and one alpha male. During the early training sessions the small cub would listen to the tamer bark commands at the older lions. Upon hearing the tamer they were all impeccably obedient. They climbed ladders, jumped from platforms, and leaped through hoops as Leo observed with wide eyes. One particular trick really held his attention. The large alpha sat gracefully before the tamer. The man reached forward with two hands and opened the massive jaws of the great lion. To Leo’s amazement the tamer then slid his head between the razor-sharp teeth of the great cat. He knew then that this man wielded an awesome power that brought submission and compliance from even the strongest lion. As Leo continued to watch the older lions obey every command an awareness began to form in his mind…this is what lions were meant to do.

After a few days of observation Leo was led into the middle of the training pen by the tamer. One of the lionesses joined him. A command was given and the lioness reacted by jumping up onto a platform. He heard the command once again and looked nervously at the lioness…CRACK! A whip had snapped behind him, startling him as he instinctively jumped onto the platform that was in front of him. He was frightened, but quickly the tamer threw a chunk of meat in front of him. Apparently he did something right, he was being rewarded.

The training continued day after day, month after month, with intermittent weekends of performances. Leo learned quickly and was soon catching up with the skill of the older lions. During one memorable training session he was going through the motions as he jumped through a set of hoops, a section of the act he had gotten particularly good at. The tamer broke their normal routine as he went over to the hoops, fiddling with them for a while…then WHOOSH! As flames danced around in frightening circles Leo felt his heart drop. He cowered and began to crawl towards the pen door…he heard the command, but did not jump. CRACK! The whip was back but this time Leo didn’t jump, he only sunk lower. CRACK! A burning pain crossed his back. He looked fearfully at the tamer with a slow side glance. He had never experienced such pain, but he knew that he deserved it…he did not leap, he did not jump. Tacitly he positioned himself to jump through the flaming hoops. As the command was uttered once again, he leapt as quickly as he could. Leo could feel the heat from the fire as he passed through the flames. When at last he was past the danger he dropped down in the dirt. A chunk of meat dropped before him…this time he did not eat.

The details of that day blurred over time, but the lesson did not. Leo did not want to disappoint the tamer by disobeying a command. He remained obsessively attentive in his presence. As a result the young lion grew into a great performing cat. He mastered the performances…jumping higher, roaring louder, and projecting more personality than all of the other lions in the little traveling pride. The older alpha waned with age and Leo soon found himself as the centerpiece of the circus. He enjoyed a couple of years of spotlight success. His connection with the tamer was never better. During performances the tamer hardly needed to gesture or call a command, Leo knew exactly what to do and when. Leo was happy. He had what he needed and enjoyed a purpose in doing exactly what he was trained to do.

As happens, life cannot sustain a single peak of joy and happiness perpetually. Eventually the circus stopped drawing the crowds that had made it successful. Financial difficulty soon followed. The owners ended up selling the other three lions, leaving Leo as the sole big cat in the show. The tamer was disgruntled at his loss, yet remained determined to bring success back to the circus. As such, the stunts that Leo was expected to perform became increasingly difficult and dangerous as his leader became more aggressive. Leo did his best to keep up with grueling training sessions only to find brief relief in short periods of rest. The weight of obligation rested heavily on his broad shoulders.

It was during this difficult time when he found himself staring into the darkness that fateful night. Somehow he wished he had done more in the past. Every stumble in a performance haunted his thoughts, every time it took longer than expected to learn a routine, every disappointed look from the tamer. He had done so much, tried so hard, but it wasn’t enough. He came to the realization that there would always be more pressure, more hoops to jump through, more commands, more whips. Hope clawed back from despair as, for the first time, he questioned what it meant to be a lion. There could be something else, something more, something meaningful. Whatever that was he knew that he would not find it from the tamer who told him what he was, what he was to do, where he was supposed to go. He felt a surge of self-realization rise from within his gut. He could seek meaning for his life, he decided that nobody else could do that for him.

Yet Leo still laid on his side in his cage. For all the internal turmoil and wrestling…his body barely moved. He knew the bars would keep him in place. He knew that he couldn’t escape. As hopelessness creeped over his body with an eery chill he continued to knead the equally chilly iron bars. His large ear twinged as the faint sound of a click pierced the silence. The cage door moved slightly under the pressure of his paws. Apparently the tamer had failed to make sure the lock was secure before he left for the night. Moonlight caught his large brown eyes. With a shove the door flew open. Quickly he hopped down, shuddering with excitement as his paws dropped onto the asphalt. For a moment he hesitated. Could he really do this? Could he really run?

Just then he heard a holler from a nearby trailer. The tamer had spotted Leo. Immediately he found himself at a sprint. A tree-line appeared in the distance, providing a target for his flight. The oaks moved closer…closer…closer…BANG! Leo’s right hind leg collapsed under his weight as he tumbled into some loose gravel. Burning consumed his thigh. The determined lion found his way back to his feet…he had been trained to push through pain to accomplish a task. Leo now sprinted faster than ever and disappeared into the thick forest. His pace slowed to navigate through all the obstacles, but he continued to flee. He would not stop, he would not go back. He ran with chilled nocturnal air rushing through his mane. Leo felt alive.

Eventually the light of morning sun shone across the horizon. Exhausted the large cat found a place in the underbrush that seemed safe to collapse. As breath caught up, Leo’s attention turned to his injured leg. The dart had grazed him, the wound was shallower than he expected. It seemed excruciating at the moment of impact but now the pain was little more than dull now. He licked his wound but felt confident it would heal.

Leo surveyed all that surrounded him. No concrete, no cages, no tent, no tamer. Freedom rang in the relative silence of the forest. A subdued breeze rustled through leaves. Leo closed his eyes as his thoughts finally caught up to him. He knew he was free now…captivity and control were in the past. The emotions of new reality were overwhelming.

Excitement

Liberation

Joy

Insecurity

Loneliness

Hope

Leo had never felt the tensions of such complex emotion before. He didn’t know what life would hold for him from this point forward. He felt confident that he was moving into a more authentic life…he was now embarking on a journey to find what it really means to be a lion.

Commentary

This allegory was prompted in part by the story of a man who was excommunicated recently from Mark Driscoll’s Mars Hill church. The story was told to the world on Matthew Paul Turner’s blog. Read about it here:

It is important to note though that this allegory is not meant to simply re-tell Andrew’s story. Over the past week many have been sharing their stories of spiritual abuse and the difficult process of escaping religious control. Their stories can be found in the comments sections of the linked posts, other blogs, on social media, likely (if you run in religious circles) amongst your friends, or possibly in your own life experience. The volume indicates that there is a serious and systemic issue that needs to be addressed. Too often religion has been used to control others. I agree with MPT, it must stop. This is my contribution to the fight against the dehumanizing process of caging a diverse, complex and beautiful humanity in the constricting boxes of religious regulations and systems.

In the history of the NFL we have seen many openly Christian players. It’s not unusual to see a finger pointing towards heaven after a big play; we’ve heard dozens (hundreds?) of appreciative sentiments offered to G-d in post-game interviews…especially after a championship. Notably Kurt Warner, the highly decorated Super Bowl MVP (and winner of a participant ribbon on Dancing With The Stars), has always been very open about his faith. The Christian community has always had a fondness for these sports figures. It’s pretty normal to cheer a little louder for a player we identify with.

However, something is different this year with the emergence of Tim Tebow. The buzz in the Christian community is bigger than its ever been before. Even non-Christians are paying attention. Many Evangelicals who never before found interest in the sport have started watching games specifically because of Tebow.

Tebow has always had a bit of a following among Christians. He began to rise to fame in college while famously wearing bible verses on his eye blacks. But Tebow Time became a national sensation about mid-way through this current NFL season. Week after week he led the Broncos to a number of late game comebacks to secure a place in the playoffs. And then it began… Social media became abuzz with mentions of G-d’s favor on Tebow. Some Christians started inferring that G-d was involved in what became known as “miracle” victories. Tebowism reached a climax after an overtime playoff win over the Steelers. Only 11 seconds into overtime Tim threw a great pass to Damaryius Thomas to score an 80 yard touchdown, securing the victory. Within minutes Facebook and Twitter were flooded with messages claiming the play was some sort of immaculate reception. Something new popped up this time though. Christians started using numerology to interpret a heavenly message from G-d using Tebow’s passing statistics. Tebow passed for 316 yards in that game which predictably they assigned to John 3:16.

I should say at this point that Tim has publicly stated that he does not believe G-d is supernaturally pulling strings to give him and the Broncos victories. Unfortunately this is the one message that his admirers (worshippers?) have not heard. A poll taken after this game revealed some interesting results. View the results here. An amazing 43% of respondents who were familiar with Tebow answered affirmatively when asked if his success was the result of divine intervention. This theology is quite troubling for a few reasons, but suffice it to say (for now) that if G-d is performing miracles for multi-millionaires while billions are suffering and dying in extreme poverty something is very wrong. In addition, if Tebow’s success is a result of G-d’s favor what does last week’s loss say? Has G-d abandoned him? This might deserve some more discussion, but we will save that for another time (or the comments).

So is our theology really this poor? Is G-d really that arbitrary and/or callous? I would suggest that something else is going on here. Perhaps the issue doesn’t say much about Tebow or about G-d, but rather says a lot about us. A very common belief among many religions (especially those from ancient societies) is that if we do something (pray, offer sacrifices, perform a ceremony, are nice to others, are obedient, etc) then a divine being will be inclined to give us what we desire. I believe Tim Tebow has become for many American Christians a symbol of this desire. Tim has a trait that we, as Christians, believe he shares with us, his faith. If G-d gives him success as a reward for his belief, then hopefully he will do the same for us. Could it be that Tebow is just a projection of our own longing for miracles in our own life?

At this point I would redirect us. I personally don’t find it all that beneficial to continuously attempt to find the right combination of variables in order to manipulate the favor of G-d to achieve success. I do think Tim can still symbolize something of importance for us though once we move past supernatural game rigging. Tebow has worked incredibly hard for many years to achieve success. Reportedly he is consistently the first one to practices and the last one to leave. He seems to always have a good attitude, supports and encourages those around him, and has a generous disposition. Tim is successful because he earned success. I can respect this form of “Tebowing” regardless of how I feel about football players taking a knee with head bowed after a good play.

First, I must apologize for the past couple months of absence from blogging. Life has been busy through the holidays. I have found a moment to catch my breath and as such now have time to write a bit more. I currently sit overlooking an ice covered lake with a backdrop of snow blanketed mountains. Perhaps this post will find a somewhat more positive tone then the previous…although we should start there to address this topic.

This last post was a reaction to a particular doctrine that I formerly affirmed, namely Penal Substitutionary Atonement (I’ll refer to it as PSA for convenience throughout the remainder of this piece). I felt it necessary to express my frustration with this commonly espoused atonement theory to perhaps point out some of its short comings and the damage that it can do to us personally and our relationship with G-d. However, it certainly isn’t enough to tear something down and walk away with the dust of the rubble falling off my boots. So then, I offer an alternative for consideration. Please keep in mind that what I will present is just another theory. I am not advocating that this is the final and true atonement theory…only that it is perhaps a better alternative to the popular PSA. I wouldn’t suggest anybody simply take this explanation and build a rigid doctrine around it, but rather use it as inspiration to continue the journey of finding new ways to experience G-d, love, and life with each other.

Let’s start by taking a step back in history, considering where PSA came from and why it emerged. Throughout most of the first millenium of Christianity the atonement was understood by a vast majority of followers through either of 2 metaphors. The first would be the Ransom theory. It teaches that the death of Christ was a ransom, paid to Satan, in satisfaction of his just claim on the souls of humanity as a result of sin. The second is closely related and is known as Christus Victor. This theory sees Jesus not used as a ransom but rather defeating Satan in a spiritual battle and thus freeing enslaved mankind by defeating the captor. In the 11th Century the established western church officially rejected both of these theories in favor of the Satisfaction theory at the direction of Anselm, then Archbishop of Canterbury. Satisfaction theory eventually emerged into PSA under the Reformers 500+ years later. As a reminder, PSA argues that Christ was punished (penalised) in the place of sinners (substitution), thus satisfying the demands of justice so G-d can justly forgive the sins. So here we are in present day…dealing the the Mark Driscolls of the world telling us that G-d hates us and that we need to feel guilty because we aren’t holy enough for him, that G-d demanded a human sacrifice to appease his wrath against us. If such an assertion came from any other religion we would immediately be able to identify how dangerous such an understanding of G-d would be…but since it comes from our own tradition we seem to be generally quite blind to it.

I’d like to pose this question: Why did Anselm send us down this path? Why did he see it necessary to change the path of a millenium of Christians before him. It is reported that Anselm rejected the ransom theory because he had discerned that Satan, an actual spiritual being, could not have possibly had any just claim to G-d’s creation, thus eliminating the legal requirement for a ransom to be paid. For Anselm a similar dilema was posed by Christus Victor in that it portrayed Satan as such a powerful being so as to be able to enslave G-d’s creation against His will. Anselm contended it was much preferable to see us (humanity) as enemies of G-d, through our sin, then to assert godlike power to the spiritual being of Satan. I wouldn’t argue with Anselm on his identification of a problem, but I would obviously have some contention with his resolution (again, see my previous post).

In the tradition of this blog I would approach the resolution of the criticisms of Christus Victor by exploring the metaphorical interpretation. We have already established that it is fairly unattractive to view our condition as a subjection of humanity to the literal spiritual power and authority of a being that is not G-d, namely Satan. If we do this we effectively create another god who is just as powerful as, well maybe just a little less powerful than, the main G-d, in so doing we become polytheists. So what if Satan is a metaphor for something? Is there some problem, power, set of issues that humanity faces from which we would need a savior, a hero? If there were, then perhaps the analogy of the spiritual battle of Christus Victor could still be maintained, albeit slightly modified.
In searching for the villain, our Satan, in the narrative of Christus Victor I would introduce us to, or for some remind us of, another atonement theory that has seemed to exist in some form or another throughout the history of Christianity. This atonement theory is known as “moral influence“. It teaches that the purpose and work of Jesus Christ was to bring positive moral change to humanity. This moral change came through the teachings and example of Jesus, the Christian movement he founded, and the inspiring effect of his martyrdom and resurrection. If we let moral influence inform our decision on choosing a metaphorical definition of “Satan”, then it would appear that immorality, as defined by Jesus, would be the villain in our narrative. If we review Jesus’ teachings it appears that our Satan, the one he came to defeat, is/are the systems and individual interactions that are unloving, those that cause alienation and oppression, those that ignore or perpetuate poverty and need, etc.

This way of approaching the question gives us something real and tangible to work with. We are no longer fearing and struggling against some lower diety who is manipulating our life events (I hate it when Satan hides my keys on Sunday mornings to keep me from getting to church, but Jesus usually overcomes the attempts of the Devil by helping me find them! PTL!). Rather we move into addressing real world problems by practicing “The Way” (for those who don’t already know, early Christians identified themselves not as “christians” but rather as followers of “The Way”…that way of course being the one Jesus taught and demonstrated). We are trying to solve issues like poverty (locally and globally) with generosity and compassion, we try to find ways to create and maintain peace by rejecting the cycles of violence and retribution, we seek to have relationships that are healthy, beneficial, and that demonstrate authentic love regardless of race, class, religion, or sexuality, etc.

If we see the reason for Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection in the context of this collision of Christus Victor and Moral Influence then we effectively resolve Anselm’s problem with these traditional atonement theories while simultaneously avoiding the afore mentioned pitfalls and abuse of penal substitutionary atonement. I see this approach as much more beneficial, hopeful, and as calling Jesus’ followers to a higher responsibility in the narrative of life and existence in the universe.